Moment You Loved Her (back)
by Lindt Luirae
Summary: Some things are just worth breaking for. KakaSaku AU.


**-I- **

The days are dreary; it's the middle of winter; rain, snow, wind and thunder. It's the coldest it's ever been in Konoha, and Kakashi finds it befitting.

His state of mind matches the weather with its perpetual mood swings. Calm one second, raging the next; loud like ripples of thunder, quiet like a snowy night.

He observes the way his breath fogs the gelid air, puffs of wavering smog wafting from his mask. The tips of his fingers have long since gone icy in his pockets as he stands cold and still like the stone before him. A nameless grave sitting vociferously just a few miles east of the border. An outsider like Sasuke, even in death, was always going to be an outsider.

It's still inconceivable that just last month, Kakashi had watched Sakura rip Sasuke's still beating heart out of his chest in a sick imitation of the way Kakashi's Chidori had sunk through Rin's heart.

And Kakashi, in the heavy coalescing seconds that followed, had teetered on the edge of … something. For just a few, breathless, deafening moments, standing there with the smell of ozone heavy in the air, watching the light fade out of Sasuke's eyes … Sakura standing above his body, dripping blood elbow-down … the crunchy white snow beneath her soles weeping crimson … the world could've ended, right then; their moon and their sun and all the stars could've erupted and destroyed the only world they've ever known and Kakashi wouldn't have been able to move an inch. He didn't even breathe; stuck in a nightmare he'd relieved every night, frozen, chained.

When Sasuke's lips had moved, he had heard Rin's voice saying his name, a broken, stuttering whisper; an apology.

In his fractured, disbelieving state of mind, Kakashi had gone home. He'd stared dispassionately at his shabby apartment, a recreation of a thousand other times he'd returned from a successful mission and felt bile rise in his throat. Slowly, it sunk in that their self-appointed mission to kill or save Sasuke had culminated in a sudden, and final conclusion.

Shaken to the core, the emotions transformed into a sudden and all-consuming rage. For the first time in ages, he'd retreated into himself and allowed his feelings to overpower him, to control him, to sink him into the midst of misery as he trembled with a thousand emotions, and an inescapable memory. He'd slammed the table against the wall, plates, and glasses shattering at the impact, Mr. Ukki by the window falling in a heap on the ground, symbolising the state of their team with depressing accuracy. And Kakashi had punched a hole in his wall looking at it, busting his knuckles— but even that didn't distract him from the aggravating loss of another teammate to his lack of better judgment.

Kakashi takes a deep breath, resurfacing from the memory of that night; filling his lungs with unforgiving, frigid air and letting it fester in his heart until it quelled the fiery agony trapped in there.

The award of the world's shittiest teacher, shittiest _person_, goes to him. It must. He had not only ruined one of his students—permanently as this grave reminded him—but now two.

The voices follow him sometimes, cutting; unbearable. How ridiculously predictable that Kakashi Hatake's student would take after him; how befitting of the Friend Killer's student to kill her teammate. _Although I wasn't expecting it to be the pink haired one, but what d'ya know, it's always the innocent ones, _laughs a nameless face.

And Sakura, sweet, caring, loving Sakura doesn't deserve to sully her hands with the blood of the man she loves. It's tragic, Kakashi thinks, that he has allowed her to be tainted that way. Sometimes he wakes up with the memory of her tear-streaked face, of her frail trembling frame and wide green eyes so vividly imprinted in his brain that he wants to choke on its poison and die.

Quietly sighing, he caresses the grave goodbye and continues on his way to the bar Sakura frequents.

It's approaching night time, and it fills him with dread knowing she'd be on her way to her fifth drink by now. It's always something vile and strong that turns his stomach around; she always laughs and says it doesn't matter as long as she forgets. And Kakashi almost always ends up punching someone in the face for her. Some pathetic man belonging to the scum of the earth making some lewd remark about her; a cruel and derisive comment from another lowly bastard. Or any standard asshole who won't take no for an answer.

Today it's from a new bigshot Jounin who couldn't possibly stand the knowledge that not every woman in the room is taken with him. Like a bee to honey, he makes his way to her; and like every other guy Sakura has ever rejected without a single look, the offence is dealt with in scathing, brutal words.

At first, Kakashi had ignored the man as he kept coming back again and again like he was hoping the rejection would turn into approval with enough persistence on his part and— well. Patience was never really Kakashi's forte.

Like student like teacher, the Jounin had told her, in a last-ditch attempt to deal some damage back in return for his bruised male ego.

Three knuckles is what Kakashi breaks deforming the Jounin's nose. He thinks they should've learned to leave her alone by now. He thinks after pummelling a variety of self-entitled bastards every other day, surely they've gotten the message.

"What the fuck, man?!" The Jounin had screamed when Kakashi shoved him off his stool and against the wall behind him.

And Kakashi had smiled cruelly as he looked at him. "I would think carefully before I compare someone to me, Jounin-san… after all, you wouldn't want to offend _me_ now, would you?"

Kakashi drops him and Sakura takes one look at the whimpering and bleeding Jounin on the ground clutching his nose and sighs that this had become so familiar that it was starting to become boring. She turns around to down her drink before stumbling off the stool.

"Here to take me home?" Her words, were only slightly slurred as if she might've been sleepy, but it's the flush staining her cheeks that gives away her true level of inebriation.

Kakashi wipes his bloody hand across his thigh and grabs her by the waist, steering her outside before the itch overwhelms him and directs him back to that pitiful Jounin. Sometimes the words are so vicious he wonders what Sakura really thinks upon hearing them, but nothing is worse than the ones who compare her to him.

Kakashi who'd stained his hands crimson since he was a six-year-old … Kakashi whose kill count is unparalleled even by some S-classed criminals … no one had any business comparing _Sakura_ to him.

Sakura leaned against him; she'd long stopped resisting his interruptions. "Kakashi…"

He looks down into her unfocused green eyes and felt his own soften in resignation. "Yes, I'm taking you home."

He watches each of her steps all the way to avoid looking at the people watching them, and whispering. Kakashi had gotten used to this kind of treatment a long time ago; after all, his father's dishonour had brought him all kinds of judgment and attention, but he doesn't think he could handle seeing it directed at Sakura.

They make it just in time for Sakura to dash to the toilet and fall to her knees.

Kakashi kicks off his sandals and tucks away his gloves and headband as he follows her into the cramped bathroom. Sakura heaves over and over and he sighs heavily as he crouches next to her and holds her hair back. This, she'd also long-stopped resisting.

"You need to stop doing this to yourself," he murmurs as he rubs her back comfortingly. She shudders and retches again, sweat beading over the back of her neck.

When she's done, she rests her head weakly over her arm on the seat. There are tears in her eyes now. "I can't— I… he's … I s-see him _everywhere_ … everywhere I look."

He wipes the sweat off her brow with the back of his fingers and gets up to flush the toilet.

"Come on," he helps her onto shaky knees. "Get it together Sakura. You're stronger than this— no, look at me. I'm not going to let you end up like me."

He doubts she'll remember any of this tomorrow, she's much drunker than he'd initially thought, and he has to steady her a few times as she washes her hands and brushes her teeth.

He holds her as she disrobes, her shorts getting tangled over her feet and her bra clasp getting stuck in her hair. This isn't the first time he'd helped her shower either; she always looks so vulnerable, barely held together at the seams that he can't really look at her, even when she's naked.

Maybe she knows that, and so doesn't mind it when he grabs her by the elbows as she steps under the spray and helps her wash her hair; and again, when he protectively wraps her in a towel and directs her to her bedroom.

Kakashi does all this silently, a routine that's been established in just under four weeks, but it works for the both of them. He takes care of her because he feels personally responsible, and she distracts him off his own feelings before they damn him into a dark hole he can't escape.

And Sakura, no matter how intimidating she tries to look or how fearless she appears to be, always sinks into the comfort he offers like he's the one thing holding her together.

"Stay," she begs him, hands fisting his shirt after he's made her drink water and ushered her to bed, "please."

And like every other time she's asked this of him, he does. Because this is his fault because he's ruined her like he's ruined every other person he's ever cared for.

He wraps her in his arms, feels her head rest on his chest, and lets her cry silently into his shirt as if he doesn't smell every salty drop of her pain.

Kakashi strokes her hair and hums a quiet tune she likes until Sakura falls asleep, and stays until she's well into dreamland before he disentangles her from him and leaves her until the next day of the same vicious cycle.

**-II-**

They don't see Naruto much anymore, except for the one in their ramen bowl. Their Naruto had gone off to Suna, seeking the comfort of the only other person who ever truly understood his pain.

Sakura insists he's run away because he couldn't face her anymore; not after she took away his Sasuke, but that she's fine by that, she could rarely face herself some times, too.

Kakashi wants to offer her words of comfort but they get stuck in his throat because this is… this is like watching his younger self from another person's shoes.

He shakes the thought away.

Gaara for his part, sometimes sends them updates promising that Naruto is in good care.

"Eat." He tells Sakura when he notices she's stopped after two bites of noodles.

The look on her face tells him she'd rather do anything but. Kakashi, being familiar with this kind of behaviour having gone through it himself, glares at her until she relents, chewing slowly on her miso ramen.

His smile is just shy of affectionate as he watches her take another bite. "There we go, see? Not so hard."

"Prick." She mutters sourly, which makes something inside him unexpectedly warm.

"Maa, such language is unfitting of a pretty young lady," he teases her, hoping it'll drag her away from her demons, if only momentarily.

"Don't make me pummel you to the ground with my pretty young lady fists," she warns, but there's the tiniest smile playing at the corner of her lips and Kakashi counts it as a win.

There's talk of making him Hokage lately, despite the fact that he's spent four weeks beating up the scum of his village for daring to mess with Sakura. Tsunade never mentions it, but he thinks she secretly approves.

Not that Kakashi has any interest in being Hokage. That was Obito's dream, not his. It was Minato's dream, Kushina's dream, _Naruto's_ dream. He's just not cut out to lead; he failed to protect his team of three people, he doubts he could protect an entire village.

Tsunade is persistent either way, whatever she sees in him … well, it's probably a delusion anyway.

He sits with Sakura until he's made sure she's eaten. It's a new addition to their routine in the past couple of weeks, after Kakashi had noticed the alarming rate at which Sakura was losing weight and discovered she wasn't eating at all.

Well, he might be the shittiest person on earth, but he's nothing if not a _persistent_ shitty person. He'd make sure she's … well, 'okay' is not the right word here, and perhaps it never will be again. Alive more like; he wants to keep her alive. With his track record, he knows it won't be an easy job, but he'll try his hardest. How many times is one bound to fail before they succeed? He'll get it right this time.

He must. Kakashi doesn't know what he's going to do if he loses Sakura too, with Naruto holed up in Suna with no visible sign of return.

Either way, it's becoming a bit of an obsession, keeping an eye out on Sakura. She takes solace in the bottom of a bottle and he takes solace in bringing her back to the edge before she sinks all the way through. Taking care of her has become his own sort of drug. A full-time job that distracts him just enough to function.

He watches her as she drinks the broth in her bowl and wipes at the back of her mouth, drumming his fingers on the wooden table. "You're going to Kuni today too, aren't you?"

She doesn't give any obvious outward reaction, but there's just the slightest tension in her frame that lets him know she was hoping he wouldn't ask. "Are you going to stop me?"

Kakashi sighs. "Sakura, I'm not your father and you're a grown woman. I'm just going to tag along, that's all."

"Why? So you could pummel some bastard? I can take care of myself Kakashi and you know it." There isn't any heat in her words; he knows she appreciates his company, and that she doesn't mind his interferences all that much.

"Now, now, don't be a spoilsport. I need to let out some steam every now and then too." He interjects lightly; kami help the poor bastard that'll piss him off today. It was shaping out to be a _decent_ day— Sakura has eaten without much fuss and he'd finally replaced the broken table in his apartment. Souring his mood would be a death wish on anyone's part.

Sakura looks away, and he takes note of the way her fingers twist nervously together. It makes him wonder what she's thinking—

"I'm going at six." She says it with a sigh, dumps some money on the table and is immediately gone afterward, leaving Kakashi to blink quizzically at the place she previously occupied.

There's always been a bit of resistance. She'd always left him to hunt her down. He dares to consider this an invitation.

_Huh, that's new._ Sakura still mostly put up the pretense that his 'babysitting' —as she calls it— annoys her.

Palming at the pulsing headache behind his eye, Kakashi slumps a little in his seat. He's torn between smiling helplessly at this development, and wanting to put his head down and sleep an eternity. Figuring her out is exhausting.

Heaving another sigh, he pays for his own food and leaves Ichiraku to visit his favorite spot on the Hokage mountain for some mindless reading.

**-III-**

Wednesdays are always worse than Saturdays when it comes to Sakura's new favorite pastime. After all, Sasuke had died on a Wednesday.

She doesn't wait for him on this day, she never does. When he finds her, she's so drunk that she can barely conceal it. Today, she sits in a secluded corner at the back, her hair in a loose bun at the nape of her neck.

Perspiration coats her brow with a thin sheen of sweat, the flush in her cheeks spreading all the way up to her ears.

She's already halfway through the drink in her hand, and he doesn't bother to ask her which number drink it is because he doesn't think that even she can remember.

"Sakura," Kakashi says by way of greeting, his hands in his pockets. She looks up at him with bleary eyes and he's surprised when her lips quirk up in a tiny smile. Oh, she's _hammered_ alright.

"K-Kashi," she hums, tilting her head like a curious bird. "Sit."

Hesitantly, he does. He wants to take her home because she's clearly had too much to drink, but this is the first time she's seemed in a talkative mood since her first prowl into the world of debauchery.

Her unfocused green eyes blink innocently at him before she scoots closer to his side until he feels her knee bump his. "Come to take me home?"

Silence. Something isn't right with the way she's spoken the same words she repeats to him every other night. There's a lilt to her voice; a teasing note that makes him think she's asking him to _take her home_ in a different sense.

Blinking slowly, Kakashi's confused brain swirls for a few moments, while Sakura continues to smile at him with her half-lidded eyes. When she tilts her head coyly and leans her chin on her upturned palm, he begins to internally freak out. Is she _flirting_ with him?

Shaking his head to free it from such ridiculous thoughts, he internally reprimands himself as he helps her up onto her feet. Maybe _he_ needs a drink.

Sakura immediately stumbles into his chest, mumbling a half-hearted apology and pressing her palm against his rapidly beating heart. Her scent absolutely overwhelms him for a few seconds; jasmine and alcohol and mint, a strange, enticing mix

Drawing back from her, he supports her frame until she's regained her footing. "Alright?"

"Mhm," she gives a jerky nod and she's still smiling, something soft and rare and _drunk_ and he doesn't know whether to be thankful or worried.

They leave together, like many nights before, and for the first time he wonders what this looks like from an outsider's point of view. He's never one to care for the way he appears but this makes him pause; especially after Sakura's teasing words. Do people think he's _taking Sakura home_? To do what? Take advantage of her in her drunken state?

The thought makes him sick. Again, he shakes himself free of these thoughts. Why did it matter what they thought? He'd never ever do anything with Sakura when she's clearly not in control of herself or her actions. However, Kakashi knows why this matters; he knows exactly what makes him worry. It's because those are the same people who had always assumed the worst of him and will continue to do so forever. They needn't bother though, because he loathes himself enough without stooping to that level of scumminess.

Kakashi lets her hold onto his elbow as they walk, her sweet scent engulfing them. He wants to protect Sakura, not hurt her. That's all he ever wants these days, just to see her smile again, a flicker of the bubbly person she was.

And yes, it's distracting, the way her breasts press into his bicep, and he's annoyed with himself for being unable to ignore their soft cushion against him, but he knows that, at the end of the day, those are just thoughts. Just a part of him he can't switch off. Sakura is beautiful, in a way he doesn't think anyone can deny. She's the perfect mix between brash and shy, between terrifying and lovely. She's, Kakashi thinks, what a shinobi looks for in a partner; capable, strong, _intimidating_, but also warm and caring.

That at least, he feels comfortable admitting to himself. It seems purely factual, these thoughts he has about her.

Sakura seems to be dozing off as they walk, her face pressed into his arm.

The minutes tick by in silence, during which Sakura falls in and out of consciousness, betrayed by her occasional stumbling, until they arrive at her doorstep and she muffles a yawn against his arm.

It's absurdly endearing, the way she clings to him like a lost kitten. A ridiculously drunk, lost kitten that is, and he finds himself itching to pull her closer.

Annoyed with his once again drifting thoughts, Kakashi pulls her into the comfort of her house and leads her to the bedroom. She's swaying, unbalanced and giggly as she stumbles out of her shoes and nearly knocks over her clothes hanger in an attempt to stay up.

"S'rry," she slurs, grasping on his elbow.

Kakashi resists a smile, "You're going to have one nasty hangover tomorrow, you know that right?"

She giggles again, partly clinging to him as he leads her to her bed, arm around her waist, and he bends slightly to ease her down onto the covers. But what he doesn't expect is for her to suddenly flop backward and yank him down with her.

He stumbles forward, his palm shooting out to steady himself, his elbow resting above her head, his knee coming up to press next to her thigh.

Kakashi freezes, his breath catching in his throat as he barely stops himself from crushing her to the mattress. She's soft everywhere they touch, and her breath on his face burns and—

"Mmm," she hums, as her arms wind around his neck and he jolts in her hold when she presses her mouth against his masked one.

Kakashi gasps against her, and immediately recoils, his heart rapidly banging against his chest. For a few moments, it gets stuck in his throat as he watches her with wide eyes and she looks back at him like he just kicked her puppy.

To his absolute and utter horror, her eyes begin to fill up with tears and she hiccups before they spill down her cheeks.

Kakashi then does something he's never done before. He freaks out. "H-hey, hey, hey, please don't cry—" and when her frame starts shaking with the force of her repressed sobs, he starts frantically wiping off her tears, "Shit, _shit_. I'm sorry, did I hurt you? I didn't mean to."

She looks away, her arms falling away from around him, and he can't tell if the flush in her cheeks is due to embarrassment or intoxication or both.

She bites her lip— it's so pink, it's distracting, and the sight of her reduced to tears is terrible and beautiful all at once. "W-why... can't you kiss me?"

His breath catches again, and his heart rate triples. This isn't how he imagined his night going.

Watery, green eyes turn to look at him— so green he feels like he's drowning and for a few seconds it's hard to breathe. He stares down at her, completely taken aback, but strangely wanting. She's a mess, teary, flushed and emotional, and she's looking at him like he's the only one who can make it okay and— Kakashi doesn't deserve this look from her.

"Sakura…" he says unsurely. Is she so drunk she doesn't even recognise him? There's no way she'd want _him_, her team captain and a man fourteen years her senior to kiss her? Or does she actually have misplaced feelings for him, of all people? "You're really drunk right now, surely you realise that."

She's chewing on her lip, and he can't tell if she's purposely doing so or if it's completely innocuous on her part. "B-but why?"

"Because I know you actually don't want to." He says gently as he untangles himself from her. "You need to sleep, we'll talk in the morning, okay?"

Her glare is fierce and she shoves him against the shoulder, "_I_ decide what I want— jus' say you don't wan' to."

Kakashi sits back on his knees. The vision of her sprawled back on the bed beneath him is all kinds of wrong, but he's only a man and suddenly, he has no trouble acknowledging he wants her in ways he shouldn't. "Sakura," he says, a bit more forcefully than he intended, and immediately softens his tone, "okay, how about we make a deal?"

She continues to glare at him with hurt written all over her face and he continues speaking, trying to appease her any way he can. He's ninety percent sure she won't remember any of this come morning, "If you wake up tomorrow and you remember any of this, and you still want me to … kiss you," he stumbles over the word like a silly little boy, "I will. But you're clearly drunk right now, so I need you to sleep, okay? Does that sound fair?"

"You're not gonna run away?" She mumbles half-heartedly, and her lower lip wobbles ever so slightly.

Kakashi chuckles because she knows him too well, but it almost gets stuck in his throat, "I won't."

"Ok." She grumbles quietly and scoots up to her pillows and flops onto her stomach. "G'night K-Kashi."

"Good night, Sakura."

* * *

He almost runs away. He packs his mission gear and heads straight for the Hokage tower, but before he can knock on the door, he stops right there in the hallway leading to Tsunade's office and realises there's no way he can go through with this.

The memory of Sakura's tears, her plea for him not to leave, is too fresh. The truth is that leaving now would mean he has abandoned her.

And Sakura is the only thing Kakashi has left; proof that he wasn't a complete and utter failure. She's theclosest thing he'll ever have to a family.

He sighs, aggravated. She just had to go ahead and kiss him, huh? Nothing could ever be simple for him, could it?

His fingers brush fleetingly over his lips as his hand comes down from rubbing his eyes. Why now? Why ever?

He turns around and begins his trek back home. The sun had risen an hour before, and he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. The truth of it is he's exhausted, emotionally more than physically. He's exhausted in a way that leaves him bone weary, in a way that reminds him of cold, sleepless nights during the war, and a constant, dreadful weight in his chest.

The best thing he can hope for right now is for Sakura to wake up completely oblivious to what had transpired, and that her kiss was impulsive and thoughtless. A drunken mistake that they can forget and return to being normal so he can keep his best friend; this woman whose eyes remind him of the beloved forest of his home and… and… and many things. Many things Kakashi doesn't want to lose. Can't bear to lose.

Kakashi wonders, foolishly, why he is so caught up over the briefest of brushes to his lips. Even the memory of it sends his heart racing, knotting his stomach rather uncomfortably.

Sakura is a friend. A close one especially after the war, but that's to be expected. And he loves Sakura the way he loves Naruto… doesn't he?

Kakashi pauses at that thought. For once, he's desperate to dissect his brain and those weird feelings. It's not something he's used to doing, usually, he'd rather shove them all under the carpet and forget about them. But not this time. Sakura still needs him and he can't leave her alone, but if he's going to stay he needs to know what he's dealing with, on both sides.

When he acknowledges Sakura's attractiveness, is it merely observational or is _he_ attracted to _her_?

He remembers that moment from the night before, how the sight of her underneath him caused the tight knot in his stomach, and the fleeting thought that he wanted her when he shouldn't.

Kakashi swallows thickly. All of this because she'd kissed him? Is he that deprived?

He looks around at his surroundings, empty streets, and a bright sky, his apartment down the road.

Or is it actually the implications behind the kiss? Is Sakura attracted to _him_? Since when?

Opening the door to his apartment, he drops his backpack on the floor and heads straight for the bathroom. He brushes his teeth, then washes his face, and breathes deeply for a few seconds to settle his heart rate.

Looking in the mirror makes him slightly uncomfortable. There's a flush in his face that spreads all the way to his ears, and it's embarrassing to be this flustered.

Kakashi exits the bathroom and flops down on his bed.

It's probably for the best if he just forgets about this completely.

But why can't he?! Kakashi sighs forcefully, rubbing at his bare face.

Alright so, he's attracted to Sakura, big fucking deal. It's not like he can help his hormones or control them or even direct them. Sakura has nice legs and a pretty smile and candy floss hair and bright green eyes— it's hard not to like any of that.

Again, he realises this isn't what's really bothering him because he has always, on some level, known of this surface attraction to her. It's the fact that it went deeper than physical appearance.

It's the fact that he couldn't stand to leave her alone, to not take care of her, to watch her spiral down a dark hole… maybe it isn't really just physical attraction.

And that thought is terrifying. So Kakashi does what he does best. He shoves the thought under the rug, flops on his side and goes to sleep.

**-IV-**

He successfully avoids Sakura for two days before the guilt gets the best of him.

Kakashi knows how to be broken without shattering to pieces, Kami knows he's had a few decades to practice. But Sakura… Sakura hadn't lost a teammate before now. Had only begun to experience the bitter, terrible, vicious feeling that'll now live within her forever.

And yes, he's scared of all of this, but he won't let her go through it alone.

It's much later, after many, many months that Kakashi realises he's needed her to grieve with as much as she's needed him.

When he visits Sakura that evening, she's an unmade, hot mess. Her hair piled on top of her head, shirt falling off her shoulder and ending just above her mid-thigh. There's a bit of smudged make-up and dark circles under her eyes.

She stares at him, and for a moment he thinks she might slap him.

But then she turns around and walks into her apartment, leaving her door wide open for Kakashi to follow.

He doesn't know where to start. He wants to apologise, but his mouth suddenly feels dry and he can't get the words past his lips.

She says nothing, does nothing really, simply drops on the couch and gazes steadily at him. It leaves Kakashi standing in the middle of her living room feeling terribly misplaced, and worse like he's about to face some kind of judgment.

The seconds stretch out, wearing his patience thin. There they remained, an elite jounin, appearing to stand cool and collected before a human trainwreck. Yet somehow she managed to make him feel like she was a queen looking down from her throne at him, as she decides his punishment. How is it that her gaze alone threatens to shatter him? He feels stretched thin, and like all the pieces of him are about to crumble from all of the cheap glue and rough treatment.

There's a moment where Kakashi just wants to give in and fall apart; just hand himself over to her and hope for the best. Even if it means he has to gracefully endure her silent treatment with the humility of a man who knows he's wronged a woman in ways he doesn't necessarily understand.

Sakura sighs, and the silence shatters with it. She's made her decision.

He expects her to ask him to leave or to sit, but she does neither, which he thinks is much, much worse than if she'd kicked him out. Instead, she gets up and walks away to her bedroom, her parting words jaded and detached all at once as she shuts the door behind her: "Tea's in the kitchen."

And doesn't Kakashi love the scathing, satirical little voice at the back of his mind that tells him he might as well go fuck himself?

**-V-**

He's angry with her. He cannot explain it, because it's not something she's done wrong. She just wears his control thin, and he … He wants …. She's so …

She frustrates him, is the truth of it. On a very primal level. She makes him want her when he shouldn't. She's sweet Sakura, he's ruined her enough as it is, he doesn't want to break her like every other thing he's ever touched.

After all, Kakashi doesn't know how to be gentle, no one's ever really taught him how.

And yet … it feels a little like a losing battle, resisting her.

In the past few days, her words had become sparse and her silences stretched. She doesn't ignore him, but she might as well do. There had been no mention of the attempted kiss, nor had she given any inclination to share her thoughts or if she even remembered the damn occurrence, but somehow her silences gave away all the answers.

And somehow, he is always on edge.

His hands itch to hold something, his tongue to say something.

They end up sitting in the damned silence.

**-VI-**

Kakashi, after two weeks of self-imposed misery, which Sakura diligently contributes to without an ounce of pity, arrives at a couple of apt analogies. Grief is like a mixture of recreating an identity and a bittersweet processing of memory. Grief is like a guilty addiction, reminding you of a time when your life was right. Grief eats you alive.

Sometimes, he could just look at Sakura and tell she's stuck in some memory groove, losing another shred of her sanity. And sometimes, he looks at himself and wonders who is he to judge her when he lives exclusively in the past.

This is not what bothers him, because in their line of work it practically came in the job description, and they all dealt with loss differently. She just had to be so… so _him_ about it.

Did he contribute to this? By rejecting her feelings? By passing down all his unhealthy habits and shitty personality traits instead of all the ways to cope with being ripped apart metaphorically and literally without completely falling apart?

Kakashi knows an impending trainwreck, knows a fast-approaching mental breakdown when he sees one.

And Sakura? Sakura is on the verge of losing it.

**-VII-**

"Are you done ignoring me?" He asks her when it really starts getting to him and he's losing sleep thinking whether he'd lost her forever because he wanted her so badly that he pushed her away.

Isn't that what he always does? Love something, kill it; love something, banish it; love something, deny it till your dying breath? Perhaps he deserves this.

"I don't know, are you done being a coward?" She counters evenly, which visibly takes him aback.

He frowns, "I'm not sure I get your drift."

She looks up from her magazine. Today she wore another oversized white t-shirt that reached her mid-thigh, half of her hair piled up in a bun and her face, for once, devoid of make-up leftovers. It's the soberest he's seen her in a long time, curled on her favourite armchair, drinking tea.

"No shit," she mutters under her breath and flips to the next page of Konoha's Weekly Entertainment magazine. Tsunade is on the cover, ever stoic and foreboding, the image of a woman who could squash you down to an atom if you said the wrong thing.

He looks at Sakura and sees something scarier. While Tsunade instilled fear into the hearts of her enemies, demanding respect from foe and friend alike, Sakura is warm and inviting until she isn't, and the cold fury that simmers beneath the surface of her skin is not something he ever wants to face.

He's surprised how much her dismissal hurts.

"Sakura, come on," he urges softly, trying not to lash out in anger to cover his hurt. "I'm trying here. I'm really, really trying."

Her green gazes flickers to meet his momentarily, carefully blank, "Could've fooled me."

He grits his teeth; what the hell crawled up her ass and died? He sucks in a steadying breath and tries again; this time he takes the plunge before he could weigh the repercussions because she makes him desperate in the worst ways. "Is this about the kiss? Because you were _drunk_. I don't know what the hell you expected me to do, but I wasn't going to take advantage of you."

That got a reaction out of her, and she looks up, one eyebrow arched as if to say 'now we're getting somewhere'.

"It's not the stupid kiss," she says haughtily. "It's what came _after_. Two days of me wondering if I've sent you away permanently. If I've lost the only family I have left. _Fuck_ the kiss. I could do heartbreak. I'm a pro at having my heart broken by unattainable man."

Kakashi's words died on his tongue as fiery and pained emerald eyes held his own unflinchingly, even as they filled with tears and she snarled, "I'm not a _child_. I don't see the world through rose-tinted glasses. I can take no for an answer. But _that_? Leaving me to wonder whether the only reason I even stick around in this world is gone or not? I would have rather _died_."

He flinches, hard, and feels at once like he wants to claw his skin off and curl up on himself.

"So yes," she says, voice wobbly, but somewhat calmer, "excuse me for thinking you're a fucking coward."

Kakashi exhales, the fight suddenly going out of him. He is just so tired, he just wants things to be okay for once.

How is he any better than her? How is that resisting her is the right option, the logical one? He's damned if he does, damned if he doesn't so what's the fucking point?

He stands, weary and achy, and plants himself firmly in front of her, plucking the magazine she's reading out of her grasp and flinging it aside. She holds his gaze challengingly as if daring him to do something, to snap, to ….

With one smooth tug he pulls her to her feet in front of him and stares hard at her. Sakura stares back, waiting patiently. He's having weird and heavily contrasting feelings of want, anger, and frustration.

"I'm sorry," he says, as sincerely as he could. "I don't… sometimes I do dumb shit."

A smile threatens to lift the corner of her lips. "Most times," she interjects.

"Fine. Most times I do dumb shit," he corrects begrudgingly. "And I'm sorry."

"Okay," she says haltingly as if she's expecting something else, something more.

Well, what could go so damn wrong? He thinks fleetingly before he pulls down his mask, threads his fingers in her hair and slants his mouth hotly against hers. She jerks in his hold like maybe she hadn't expected him to kiss her, but she's quick to return his kiss, and he tastes her surprise and pleasure on her tongue before he pulls back; all forced bravado to hide the fact that his heart was thundering in his ears. "I don't _do_ romance. Or confessions. But I can try, and I'm entitled to freak out when the only woman I ever felt anything remotely romantic towards up and kisses me while drunk, half-naked and vulnerable."

She licks her lips, still looking half-dazed and possibly ready to pull him down for another kiss, but she settles on meeting his gaze, "Fair enough."

He draws away from her and immediately misses her warmth. "When did …" He motions between them, somewhat hesitant. "This, start?"

"You've honestly never noticed?" she asks, a little awestruck. "All this time?"

"Yeah, yeah, we men are all blind pigs I get it, can we move on please?" he sighs, but his chest feels infinitely lighter, and his lips are tingling and she's looking at him like doesn't see anything else.

"Kakashi Hatake is a royal idiot," she murmurs to herself like it's the greatest revelation and despite the rising indignation at the back of his throat he wills it down. "I must've been giving you heart eyes for _years…_"

She's still mumbling to herself but the confession nearly knocks him off his feet.

"What?" he utters, stunned.

"What?" she parrots, and walks up to him like she's not scared she fell in love with one of the most damaged men she knows, and takes his hands in her own. She rubs her fingers across them in a vaguely comforting gesture. "I _have_. But I thought that um… you know, the whole age difference thing… I thought maybe you did see, but thought of it as a silly crush or hero worship or something."

Kakashi, like the idiot he is, blurts the first thing that crosses his head, "I thought you loved Sasuke."

He immediately regrets opening his big mouth and sticking his foot in it. Her fingers freeze for a split second, a flicker of hurt passing over face before it smoothed over like it was never there. "No. I loved— _love_—you. Not even in a sweet, or healthy way you know... In the I'd kill someone for you so that you never have to stain your hands with the blood of a teammate again kind of way."

Kakashi stills, a wave of chills passing over his body, and he feels something then that he's never felt before and therefore has no real name for. Like feeling every range of suppressed emotions, good and bad, since thirty-five years in one sitting. It's almost cathartic.

"And no, it's not your fault I feel this way so don't go off on a tangent," she adds quickly, cupping his face between her hands as if she's afraid he'd bolt. "I missed you."

He stops breathing, as she draws closer to him, and their chests press together in a way he can't ignore. He doesn't know how to pull away from her, it goes against every instinct he's developed, so he doesn't. He's done running.

"Sakura," he takes a breath, but it gets caught in his throat as she tilts her head back to look at him with eyes as green as the forest, so full of things that could crumble a weaker man, her lips hovering just out of reach. "What—"

"Kiss me again," She murmurs softly, and the hot puffs of her breath fan over his lips. Her thumbs brush his cheekbones cajolingly, and he wants to ask so many things, wants to say so many things, but they're lost in the moment.

Slowly, her hands glide up his arms, a sensual touch as they drag over his stuttering pulse and wind around his neck.

"Will you, please?" She wonders, and there's a vulnerability in the way she looks at him that draws him in, sinks him into her.

He swallows against his dry throat, and he's powerless against the way his body responds to her. Her breath wavers, and it burns his skin as she says one last time: "Kiss me."

"Sakura…" he breathes it out, suddenly at a loss for words with his vocabulary reduced to those three syllables, but she takes it as a form of consent.

The softness of her lips brush over his, a tantalizing caress as she presses him closer to her, and there's no resisting this— he inhales sharply against the butterfly-like sensation in his stomach and his hands move of their own accord. His fingers tangle in her rosy strands again as he tilts his head so they fit together better, and he kisses her back until he's light-headed from the rush.

He's never known a feeling like this. It's terrifying and exhilarating and completely susceptible to end up in something catastrophic, but somehow he craved it as her tongue teases his own; a lover welcoming him home.

He knows the days ahead won't be easy, and that her good days are far and few between, but he also knows that she'll heal because here's the other thing about grief: it's like waking up every day as a stranger in a foreign land. But no one remains a stranger forever.

And she has him. Kakashi knows it suddenly as he'd always known he'd die a shinobi: he'd always catch her when she falls, even if it means tumbling down with her and ending up in a tangle of scabs and bruises.

Some things are just worth breaking for.


End file.
